Ripping Through Time

Author's Note: Hey, there reader! Just a heads up, I wrote this as a school assignment a few weeks ago with every intention to get published (someday). I was also, however, was watching Bioshock Infinite while I was working on it. If you have played the game you will see MANY similarities between the two. it was not done on purpose, but I was inspired by it!

P.S. This is also a draft and there will be changes to the plot as I revise.                                                                 

                                                                ~~Prologue~~

 

            The man walked quickly with a long confident stride through the streets of Whitechapel. His clothing blended in with the misty night, creating a shadow over the brick buildings as he swiftly passed.

            Turning a corner, he sneered; as if he was pleased of what he was about to do.

        A young woman about the age of twenty-five stood, leaning against the rough brick wall. She looked cold as she tugged her thin scarf wrapped around her shoulders closer to her. But when she saw the man approach her, she quickly hid her discomfort with a look of indifference. She let her shawl sag down her arms while she picked at her nails.

            When the man grew closer she turned toward him with a seductive smile and spoke in a low voice.

            “Hello, lovely,”

          “Good evening,” he replied in equal flirtation.

            “What can I do ya for? You look like you’re in need of a good time,” The whore teases with lips slightly parted as she leaned in toward the man’s face.

            Their heads moved closer and closer together. His was angled slightly downward and hers facing up. They looked as if their lips would touch, but then just before their mouths collided he brought his hand over her mouth and pushed her to the ground. He then put his free hand around the girl’s ivory throat and squeezed. The blonde struggled to regain breath and fought, kicking and clutching her attacker’s wrist. The tall man placed the hand, which was on her mouth, around her neck. After kicking and scratching the girl closed her eyes and her body no longer held any oxygen. She was dead.

            Looking over his shoulder once, then twice, he dragged the body down the street then into a fenced yard.

            The cloaked man took out a knife from a holster hidden inside of his jacket. The unusual shaped knife glistened in the moonlight as he held it high above his head. In one motion he slashed the dead prostitute’s throat. A small amount of blood poured out of the lifeless body onto the grass. When he raised his knife once again, blood decorated the blade. He struck the abdominal area and sliced downward. The man continued to brutally mutilate the body, cutting the genital-area, removing organs, and then slashing the girl’s face.            

                He persistently worked, with no knowledge that a pair of youthful eyes had been watching him in silence.